


Bar Crawls & Flower Crowns

by Kqlink



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: A bit of drinking, Flowers, Platonic Relationships, Taverns, unnamed species while plane hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kqlink/pseuds/Kqlink
Summary: Merle and Magnus deal with the loss of a plane with a questionable drink and a bit of magic.





	Bar Crawls & Flower Crowns

They were pub crawling. The end of the last cycle had been unbearably rough and the two of them just needed to take a break. So, they claimed recon and took off into the night to find whatever substances caused them to lose their thoughts for a little while on this plane.

Merle was the smaller of the two of course. His dwarven constitution couldn’t make up for his small stature and the unfamiliar and very strong drink that the barkeep had handed him at the request for something strong. The locals called it ventersmeld, they discovered later, and it tasted like pork drippings and the smell the Starblaster gave off when Davenport let the twins have the controls while land hopping (once, only once). They both had to fight off wrinkling their nose at the first sip, neither managed it, but it did the job better than most planes’ drinks.

Every local was drinking the ventersmeld, but none of the squishy, somewhat humanoids seemed to be affected by the strong stuff, whereas, Merle and Magnus were smashed after their first and second glasses respectively. Magnus had muscle and brawn, but he fell to the strong--not alcohol but something close--soon after.

By the end of the night, they had visited all two of the taverns that the small town held. The first they visited had the slightly preferable, more pork tasting drink with only faint hints of burning machinery. The second place was almost completely mechanical, like sucking on a piece of steel—Magnus knew from experience—but damn did it do the job; they were far enough gone that it barely mattered.

They were sitting at a table in a back corner a few hours later, in chairs that were decidedly _not_ made with dwarves in mind, when Merle finally side-eyed Magnus before returning them to his drink.

“What did we do wrong?” Merle rotated his glass slowly in his hand, the ice clinking dully in the thicker air. 

“Mm, I don’t know man. I…it’s…fucking awful. They gave up everything, we gave up everything. It just wasn’t enough” 

A small vine grew out of the wooden floor and looped around the chair leg before twining around Merle’s sandaled feet, folded under his body on the chair. “Didn’t we do enough? Give up enough?” A briar twirled around his fingertips, digging in and scratching, but never cutting.

“No.”

A single bead of blood welled up around a single thorn that dug too deep at the word. Magnus reached over and tugged it carefully away. 50 odd years teaches you how to handle your drunk friends, even when you are getting pretty drunk yourself. 

With a sigh, he dropped out of his chair to the floor by Merle’s feet, nudging the thornier plants aside before settling. “How about the yellow ones that my mom gave you the day before we left? And those pink ones that smelled like hyacinths when lit on fire from three planes back. No roses!” The last request came out a slurred and high-pitched squeak as the plants around his feet started to move.

They were the focus of the whole bar. A brawny human was strange enough here; for him to be sitting on the floor while flowers grew up his arms and twined themselves in his hair was almost panic inspiring. What were they? 

Magnus was nearly hidden by flowers before the child of the bartender finally got brave enough to approach the odd scene. They saw a lot of scruffy people, but these two didn’t give off the dangerous air that only a child still trusts. They sidestepped the plants, eyes flicking between the slowing plants and the two creatures. The little one was still in the chair, but his eyes were shut and his weight was resting on his arms, draped around the bigger one’s neck while the plants they had never seen twirled lazily around them both.

Magnus was very drunk, but still awake while Merle slept. His eyes met the child’s as they stepped into his view and his lips twitched. 

"What are you looking at?" They flinched at the sudden words, but stayed put, just outside the ring of plants. Their eyes flicked between his face and the vine that was blooming on his shoulder. After a long moment of silence Magnus's eye followed the child's to the flower on his shoulder. His sluggish, from drink and emotional exhaustion, brain stuttered for a moment before he reached up and plucked one of the flowers off his shoulder. Hand outstretched, he held it out to the kid. There were plants between them and they didn’t move their feet, but their fingers opened and closed reflexively. That got a true smile. He eased Merle back into his chair where he slumped unceremoniously, before scuffling forward on his knees, avoiding plants as well as his hazy brain would allow, until he was only a couple feet away from the brave child. He held out the flower again and this time got a good look at it. 

It was a brilliant blue, exactly the same as the flowers that grew across the valley from where they had parked the Starblaster last cycle. The ones that they saw every morning when they walked into town. 

The ones that were gone.

When the child touched his hand, his eyes jerked up to meet theirs and he realized that his vision was blurred by tears. They cautiously reached out and touched a similar flower that was twined through his sideburns. Laughter bubbled sluggishly though the memories. 

“Yeah, Merle does that when he’s drunk.”

******

Merle woke some time later to a still drunk Magnus tugging flowers out of his hair and telling their stories to the child who had somehow ended up in his lap and the adults that had gathered around. The words didn't come easy, but they were a quiet race and listened silently to his rambles.

Sometimes, this life was fucking awful, but maybe this one would be different.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading. I've been meaning to dip my toes into fan fic for a while now and this idea has stuck with me for a couple months, so it got written.  
> Originally from [this post of headcanons](http://tonithelibrarian.tumblr.com/post/164725867996/i-cant-really-picture-magnus-doing-much-for-his) on Tumblr.


End file.
